Depths of Blue

by Lisa MacTague

  “Watch yourself,” he said. She was beginning to hate the growl of his voice. It goaded her, pushed her. Torrin just wanted to rest, to close her eyes for a few moments and stop moving, but he was always there relentlessly moving her forward. His hands hooked under her armpits and pulled her up to a sitting position.

  “Let’s sit a couple of minutes,” he said. He examined the side of the tree before plopping himself down beside her. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom some time ago, but it was so oppressively dark that she couldn’t make out much beyond the pale oval of his face. She had noticed a narrow triangle carved lightly into the bark of the tree. He’d run his fingers along it as if making sure it was there before he’d joined her.

  “Thanks,” she panted. “I like to think I’m in pretty good shape, but this is brutal.”

  He laughed without humor. “This is nothing compared to how brutal your Orthodoxans’ll be if they catch us. They’ll probably shoot me on sight, but you they’ll take their time with.”

  “They aren’t my anything,” she sputtered. “They’ve been holding me captive for three days. I would have been long gone if your people hadn’t launched an attack and blocked my way back to my ship.”

  “We haven’t had any major operations behind the fence in years. If someone blocked the way to your ship, it wasn’t us.”

  “Of course,” she whispered. “He lied about all of it, just to get into my ship and my pants.”

  “It’s what they do.” His growl softened, “Did he—”

  “No!” Torrin interrupted quickly. “Not for lack of trying, but I held him off and then you…finished things.”

  “Good.” He stood up and held his hand out to her. “Time to keep moving. The weather’s going to take a turn any moment now, and we need to be as far as we can when that happens. When all this dirt goes to mud it’ll be even harder to move in. Then even they’ll be able to track our every move.”

  She sighed and grasped his hand and he heaved her to her feet. For such a short guy, he had some muscle behind him. He took her shoulders and turned her, pushing her ahead of him once more. She broke into a stumbling run, trusting him to keep an eye on what was coming up and to guide her around it. The first time she got some time alone, she had to reach out to Tien. She hoped there would be some way to do that without alerting him to her ability. The last thing she needed was yet another group going after her ship.

  About thirty minutes later, as far as she could tell, he snagged her elbow and pulled her to a stop. She didn’t ask why, just let her legs fold under her and collapsed into a sitting position. The muscles in her calves and thighs screamed at her. The burning was only somewhat alleviated by getting off her feet.

  “Wait here,” he said roughly. “And don’t go anywhere.”

  “I know, I know, or the Orthodoxans will eat me.”

  “Just so’s you know” was all he said. Torrin heard scrabbling and looked up just in time to see him disappear up the tree, and she shuddered. She didn’t know how high the lowest branches were, but from the other Haefonian trees she’d seen, she knew they were a long way up. The idea of being that far from the ground without any kind of safety harness made her vaguely queasy. Being many miles higher in a spaceship didn’t bother her at all. She trusted the thrusters and hull of the vessel more than she trusted her own balance at thirty meters. Now that she was on her own in the dark she wished he would come back quickly. The blackness seemed to press in on her. Now that she wasn’t running for her life, she could hear all sorts of noises in the dark.

  She pressed on the transmitter behind her ear. “Tien, do you read?”

  There was a short burst of static and she almost wept to hear the AI’s slightly mechanical tones.

  “I am receiving your transmission, Torrin. Are you well?”

  “As well as can be expected after what’s been going on.” In low tones, with frequent glances up the tree where her captor had just disappeared she recounted the events of the last few days. “How are you holding up?”

  “I am also as well as can be expected, Torrin. The Orthodoxans have located the ship, but their tools are woefully inadequate to the task of penetrating my hull without destroying it. They seem unwilling to cause permanent damage at this point.” The AI sounded mildly perturbed but exhibited nothing like real concern.

  “Stay put and locked down,” Torrin ordered. She was alerted to the return of her unnamed captor by the sound of more scrabbling. “I need to sign off. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m able.”

  He dropped the last couple of meters and landed next to her. He dropped a rucksack by her feet and sat down on the huge root she leaned against.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Not in the least,” she said, feeling her gorge rise in response to the question. “I had quite enough before you blew Hutchinson’s head off, thanks anyway.”

  “If you say so.” He popped open the bag and rummaged through it until he found some food to his liking and munched away noisily.

  “I wouldn’t say no to some water, though.”

  He unclipped a flask off the side of the bag and tossed it to her. She struggled for a moment with the bottle’s unfamiliar spout.

  “Just squeeze,” he advised. She tilted her head back and squeezed the sides of the bottle. As the stream of water hit her mouth she realized how parched she’d become. Between the saltiness of her dinner and their flight through the woods, she was incredibly thirsty. She greedily gulped down mouthful after mouthful of water.

  “Watch it, we only have so much. You’ll get a stitch if you drink too much.”

  She nodded and gasped as she came up for air.

  “Thanks, that’s just what I needed,” she said. “So what’s your name, anyway? I could just call you ‘Hey You,’ but that seems a little disrespectful for someone who pulled my ass out of the fire.”

  “Wouldn’t want you to feel disrespectful,” he snorted. “Call me Jak.”

  “Torrin.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Torrin,” Jak replied formally.

  “Likewise.” She laughed, struck by the absurdity of their formality. “I’d curtsy, but my legs are a little shot.”

  “I hate to do this, Torrin, but we have to move. We’ve got a long way ahead of us to get back on the right side of the fence. It’ll be way easier if we don’t have a mob of pissed off Orthodoxans breathing down our necks.”

  She sighed and took his hand and allowed him to haul her to her feet. Her legs screamed in protest, but she pushed on into the dark.

  They hadn’t gone more than twenty paces when a bright flash lit the night and seared an afterimage of the surrounding trees into her retinas. Right on the heels of the flash an immense peal of thunder boomed out so loudly that she could have sworn that her teeth vibrated.

  “Oh shit,” she heard Jak say. He turned her way to say something further, but whatever he had to say was drowned out by the rain that thundered down through the trees. In a matter of moments her hair was soaked and plastered to her head and neck. Fortunately, her jumpsuit was waterproof, but that didn’t stop every inch of exposed skin from being drenched instantly. Jak grabbed her and dragged her closer to him, pulling her down so that her ear was by his mouth.

  “You have to follow me,” he shouted over the roar of the rain. “We need to stay on stable ground. Our trail won’t be as obvious and it’ll be much safer. The weather’s really going to slow us down, but it’ll do the same for them. Walk only where I walk and be careful!”

  He started off at a much reduced pace, testing each step before he trusted his weight to it. As soon as Torrin took her first step, she understood his caution. The dirt was liquefying rapidly, and each step was considerably more treacherous than the last. Her feet threatened to slide out from under her constantly. She had more luck when she learned to walk directly in his footsteps, but the length of his pace was shorter than hers, and she would occasionally miss a footprint. When they started heading downhill, she had even mor
e trouble.

  Lightning split the sky without surcease and peals of thunder followed so closely that she knew the bolts were right overhead. The driving rain wouldn’t let up and even the shortest distances became insurmountable obstacles. Mud alternately sucked at her feet or slipped out from under them. She thought she’d been tired during their frantic dash through the trees, but this tortuous snail’s pace ground her down even more quickly. What little night vision she’d managed to gain was wiped out by lightning flashes, but she took advantage of each flash to glance ahead to see Jak’s back as he carefully made his way forward.

  “Jak,” she called when he started getting too far ahead. “Jak!” She shouted louder when he didn’t stop. “Dammit, Jak!” He was too far ahead and the thunder and rain were drowning her out. She picked up her pace to catch up to him. As she struggled forward, she realized that his footprints were being washed away and she watched with horror as the last visible print disappeared just as she placed her own foot down on top of it. She froze in place and waited tensely for the next lightning flash. When it came, all it revealed was forest all around her and no sign of her captor. Unsure what to do, she hesitated. Should she stay put and hope he’d come back for her or try to catch up to him in the direction she thought he’d gone? Torn between both options she waited. A particularly close clap of thunder made up her mind. She couldn’t hang around any longer. She needed to keep moving. She gritted her teeth and pushed off in the direction she’d last seen Jak.

  Between one flash and the next he appeared in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled over the rain. “You’re going the wrong way!”

  “What am I doing?” she shot back, incredulous. “You took off. I couldn’t see you. It’s dark, it’s raining and I don’t know these woods!”

  “Here.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. His hand was warm over hers and surprisingly petite. It was also as rough as his voice. No wonder he had no problems climbing trees; his palms practically felt like tree bark. She stumbled along behind him into the darkness again.

  They slogged on through the mud and the rain. After a few hours the thunder and lightning slacked off. The rain remained constant, however, and the mud continued to slow their progress. Jak dragged her, sometimes literally, for hours. He was like a machine. He never flagged, always sure of his footing and always there to steady her steps. She wasn’t sure which was worse, going uphill or down. Uphill required all of her strength and energy to keep lurching forward, but downhill sapped her remaining reserves as she tried to keep from slipping and sliding down through the trees. She noticed that even in these trying circumstances Jak left very little trail. She, on the other hand, broke off branches, turned over rocks and scraped gouges into the sides of trees. Even the most novice tracker would have no problem picking up her trail. Jak didn’t say anything, though he did look back occasionally and shrug as if to say there was nothing he could do about it.

  The longer they went, the more resentful she became. This man was the reason for her discomfort and exhaustion. Him and Neal. Next time she saw her informant, she was going to kill him, slowly and inventively. She allowed her mind to wander among the various scenarios she concocoted for Neal’s demise.

  A trickle of cold water had worked its way down the neck of her jumpsuit and she turned her ire on the real villain of the piece. He’d pulled her out of a warm, dry house and into this cold, wet, hellish existence. His stoic demeanor only soured her mood toward him further, and every time he so much as glanced at a sign of her passage she wanted to scream. When the sky began to lighten, Torrin finally stopped dead in her tracks and dug in her heels. Jak managed to pull her a half meter through the mud before he realized she had stopped.

  “I’m not moving another meter,” she announced. “I’m exhausted and my legs are ready to give out. I’m soaked to the bone and I’m freezing.”

  Jak grinned up at her and she reddened in fury.

  “I don’t give a crap if you can keep going for three days and nights on an empty stomach and no sleep,” she spat, cutting him off as he opened his mouth. “Unless there’s a bed and a hot meal at the end of it, I’m not moving another step.”

  “You done?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. He let go of her hand and drew the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing a streak of blue mud into his hairline. “We’re almost to the last camp I made on the way to the house. We can hole up there for a few hours and rest up.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could think to say in response. He recaptured her hand and started off through the mud again.

  “I have to say, I’m surprised how well you’ve been keeping up,” he said as he forged forward. “You’re doing way better than I thought you would.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Because I’m female, I couldn’t possibly keep up with a big strong manly man like you?”

  “Well, no—”

  “Because I don’t have chest hair that means that I’m less worthy.”

  “I don’t really have any chest hair to speak of mys—”

  “You’re a piece of work, just like every other man I’ve seen on this planet. I’ve run into some misogynistic bastards in the Fringes, but you guys take the cake.” She was unprepared for his response when he swung around to face her.

  “We’re nothing like the Orthodoxans. Our women aren’t enslaved and treated like nothing more than breeding stock. We started this fight when they tried to make us live like them, and thirty years later, it’s hell, but it’s still better than living like that.” He practically spat the words at her, his voice growing rougher and more gravelly with each word. “Now come on.”

  He yanked her after him. Torrin was so shocked by his outburst that she followed him mutely as they climbed up a rocky ridge and walked through a small clearing. At the clearing’s far edge, one of the forest’s massive trees had come down and had become wedged against another, even more massive tree. Where they met, a natural shelter had been created. As they moved into it, Torrin was surprised at how big the area was and how dry. Another narrow triangle was carved into the base of the tree near the entrance. She doubted she would have even seen it if she hadn’t noticed him looking for them on their trek.

  “This is nice,” she said, looking up at the roof of the shelter a good eight meters above their heads. She noticed he still held her hand and tugged on it. “You can let go now.”

  “Sorry,” he growled and let her hand drop, coloring slightly. He paced to the back of the shelter, set his pack down and rummaged through it. “Hungry.”

  It was less of a question and more of a statement but Torrin realized she was ravenous. “Yeah.”

  He tossed her a package and the flask. “It’s heats up when you add water. Just pour some in and you’ll have a hot meal.”

  Torrin tore open the package and poured some water into the package and watched with delight as the liquid began to bubble and steam.

  “Give these back when you’re done,” he said, handing her a fork and spoon. “It’s the only pair I brought. I wasn’t expecting to have to make my way back with one extra.”

  She dug in greedily. The food was heavenly, and the gulps of water she grabbed between heaping forkfuls of food even more so. As she ate, the knot of resentment in her chest loosened and she found herself hating Jak a little less.

  “You weren’t?” she asked. “What was your mission exactly then? Were you just there to kill Hutchinson and picking up the offworld smuggler was just a bonus?”

  He didn’t answer and she looked at him over her package of food. For the first time he looked uncomfortable. He’d killed a man in cold blood, had effectively kidnapped her and then run for hours up and down hills through mud and rain without looking this discomfited.

  “I can’t answer you, Torrin. It’s against regs to discuss a current operation.”

  “A current operation? It’s you and me, Jak. There is no operation.”

  “Look, I can’t
talk about it. The less I say before I debrief the better.” He still looked uncomfortable, but by the set of his jaw, she knew she wouldn’t be getting any further information out of him.

  “I need to get out of this suit,” Jak announced and stood abruptly. “It’s soaked through and feels like it weighs a few hundred kilos.” He made his way to the back of the shelter where his rucksack sat and started hauling clothing out of the bag. “How you holding up? You wet?”

  “No, my clothing is fine, it’s waterproof. But I could use something to dry my hair.”

  He tossed her a towel. Little more than a washcloth, it was threadbare and almost transparent in places. “Sorry, it’s all I have.”

  She shrugged and did her best to wring the water out of her hair before vigorously rubbing it down with the square of cloth. She came up for air in time to see Jak pulling up a shirt over his shoulders. He had his back to her. She was struck by his slenderness. He was whipcord over bone. The muscles of his shoulders were sharply defined, but his build was almost delicate. He turned around, doing the buttons up almost to his chin and caught her staring. He raised one eyebrow inquiringly in her direction.

  “Uh, just wondering if you have a brush or comb?” She wondered at her flustered state. She didn’t go for men, never had, but she was stumbling over her words as if she had some sort of schoolgirl crush. Even when she’d been a schoolgirl, she hadn’t had schoolgirl crushes. She knew she rode the edge of exhaustion, but it must have been affecting her more than she thought. The pause had gone a little too long. To cover it up she held up a ratted and knotted lock of hair. “My hair has seen better days.”

  “Sorry.” He ran a hand through his own hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. “I don’t really need one myself so I didn’t pack one.” He grinned at her cheekily, and she smiled back in response. Stop that, she told herself.

  “I’ll just have to make do then,” she said and cursed herself for the inane response. She ran fingers through her hair, trying to comb out the worst of the snarls by hand.